


As Dogs Nip at Our Heels (Part 1)

by Bluerain1984



Series: Strangers in a Strange Land [5]
Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: And horny dads, Fingering, Hand Jobs, M/M, Reimagined scenario, Self-Esteem Issues, The Duchess and her mischief, Their thirst is ridiculous, sexual fantasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 06:35:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11708853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluerain1984/pseuds/Bluerain1984
Summary: 'It seemed the world was giving him the middle-finger today. As he was finally starting to doze, Betsy lifted her head, lept over his legs, and made a bee-line for the window. She couldn’t reach it, even standing on her hind-legs, but she was barking frantically at the sill.“Fuck me with a rusty knife,” Robert grumbled as he rolled back out of bed and went to see what had her agitated. He didn’t see whatever got her riled, but over her barks, he heard someone calling…“Duchess! Duchess, here girl!”'





	As Dogs Nip at Our Heels (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> And time to address a situation that never happened since, in this storyline, Dadsona chose Craig.
> 
> See you all at the end!

After their late-night adventure, Damien and Robert began a regular correspondence, and the Gothic man was, frankly, falling terribly for the man. Robert was in equal turns a consummate gentleman, with his kind words, occasional gifts of wood carvings (he kept one of a bat in his bedside-table), and his gentle touches when they embraced, as well as a complete gal-sneaker; a man absolutely devoted to seduction. Every time they were together, Robert would attempt to slip extra kisses, a caress to his thigh, or a nibble to his ear. Sometimes, Damien was able to evade his advances and proceed on to more cordial courting, such as conversing in the garden, or going with Robert up to his overlook. They attempted the graveyard, again, but in the daylight hours. Robert had not been as excited about the location, then, as he believed cryptids only appeared at night, but Damien was happy to at last have a pleasant picnic with him in exchange.

 There were times, of course, when Robert’s attentions were too much, and Damien was swept away into carnal exploration. It took a few dates for him to allow Robert’s hands to touch his genitals, and even though Damien felt rather embarrassed about his physiology, Robert seemed to give it no mind.

“Just feel it, baby,” Robert would whisper to him, in those times, and Damien would. Let himself be taken by the pleasure of his paramour’s hands stroking him into a new heaven. It never escalated beyond their hands, which was quite all right with Damien. He wasn’t ready just yet to show Robert the full of his form…even if he dreamed about seeing all of Robert every night. His wish to strip the man down and break him apart was utterly maddening.

That was something else he was discovering with Robert: the older man liked pain, and Damien was growing an appreciation for sadism. One day, he deigned to look online to study on sado-masochistic practices in bed, and decided that he would broach the subject with Robert on their next outing.

He’d had it all planned out: a dinner at his home, candlelight, good wine, and a deeply considered discussion on how he could indulge Robert’s ‘kink,’ followed by, perhaps their first true lovemaking. Damien’s cheeks were flushed as he imagined every moment of it in his head.

Such a pity that reality had to intrude in the worst ways.

* * *

 

Robert was half asleep when he heard his phone vibrating on his desk. He didn’t want to look. Whoever it was could fuck off. He shut his eyes and tried going back to sleep again, but after the first set of buzzes ended, they started again.

“Fuck,” he grumbled into his pillow. He got up, disturbing an equally tired Betsy from her spot at the end of the bed. “Sorry,” he told her as he dragged his feet over to the desk, swiped his phone up, and checked it. The messages were from Dames.

Damien never texted.

But there it was, his lover’s words in plain font:

_‘My dearest, forgive me. I must cancel our plans for tonight. An emergency has arisen, and I must heed it. Another time, I swear it.’_

Huh. That was…new. But Robert figured it had to do with work. He knew the guy had a job, even if he didn’t know what it was. Probably something fancy like antique appraisal or something. He texted back, _‘Yeah, sure. See you later.’_ The words were quick, and couldn’t begin to describe the disappointment he felt.

Robert hadn’t felt this way in years. After his wife died, he’d had a taste of possibly getting back that kind of passion and hope, but that had fallen through because Joseph was too attached to his place in the community. Bunch of bullshit he should never have believed, but he’d let himself think he could be happy again, and it bit him in the ass. Who could blame him for doubting that anything good could last?

Somehow, though, he was finding it possible again. Damien made him laugh. Made him feel humble, but also bursting with pride. And God, if he didn’t make Robert feel as horny as a teenager again. He couldn’t keep his hands off the younger man, and only stopped when Damien asked him to. When he didn’t, Robert wanted to touch everywhere; kiss every inch of porcelain skin. On nights when they didn’t get off together, he’d go home and jerk himself to the thought of that pale body riding on his dick and leaving scratches on him.

God damn it, he was hard again. Robert grumbled, went to take a cold shower to stifle the urge, then he threw himself back into his bed. Betsy crawled up nearer to snuggle at his legs, and Robert tried to get some more sleep. But it seemed the world was giving him the middle-finger today. As he was finally starting to doze, Betsy lifted her head, lept over his legs, and made a bee-line for the window. She couldn’t reach it, even standing on her hind-legs, but she was barking frantically at the sill.

“Fuck me with a rusty knife,” Robert grumbled as he rolled back out of bed and went to see what had her agitated. He didn’t see whatever got her riled, but over her barks, he heard someone calling…

“Duchess! Duchess, here girl!”

Was that Mary? The hell was she calling for a ‘duchess’?

“Duchess!! Duchess Cordelia!”

Dames? What was going on? He peered out, and spotted Mary come around the house next door, followed by a man. He was wearing a purple polo and plain pants, his hair was pulled back in a ponytail, he had on thick black glasses, and not a single smear of makeup on, but there was no denying that it was Damien. His voice confirmed it, as Dames called again, “Duchess!”

“Fuck, we must have missed her,” Mary grumbled. Robert didn’t know what they were doing, who or what they were looking for, or why Dames wasn’t in one of his usual Lord of The Manor outfits, but he did know they were in trouble.

“Hell, why not,” Robert said, turning from his window to pick up clothes from the floor. Damien must have been rubbing off on him, making him all chivalrous. He looked at Betsy, and said, “C’mon, girl. I got a feelin’ we’re goin’ huntin’.”

* * *

 

“We’ll try around the shopping area,” Mary said.

“Agreed,” Damien replied. He couldn’t help but feel heartsick. Not only for poor Duchess, out alone and lost, but, rather selfishly, he still wished he hadn’t had to cancel his date for tonight. And by text message, no less! He would rather have penned the plea to Robert, but time had been of the essence. And, well, he had to go to the shelter out of dress; his preferred aesthetic was alluring and mysterious to humans, but to animals, a cape was a hazard, and his suits would know nothing but devastation around animals. Some were even afraid, like Duchess. And having her afraid of him would not work right now, when they had to find her and return the pup to her kennel, post-haste.

He and Mary were about to walk back around their neighbor’s house when a figure turned the corner head… From Robert’s house. _Oh, cruel fates, why must you torment me,_ Damien thought as he saw his lover approaching, Betsy at his side. Damien froze, horrified that Robert may see him at such an inopportune time, and… He didn’t know why he did it, but he flung himself into bushes that lined the house to his right.

“Dames?! What the hell are you doing?” Mary exclaimed.

“I’m not here! Just—I’m not here!”

“Get the fuck out of those bushes, Dames! I swear to God—”

“You lookin’ for somethin’?” Robert asked. Damien’s heart was racing, but this time not in the exhilarating, wonderful way he felt whenever Robert was near. Of all the days! He wanted to crawl beneath a rock and let himself turn into the dust of the Earth! Vanish like smoke in the air!

“Yeah,” Mary replied. “We lost a dog from the animal shelter.”

“Why’s Dames with you?” _Oh, by the heavens, he’d seen after all!_

“Cause he volunteers there, too?” Mary quipped. “And right now he’s gone nuts and jumped into the bushes.”

“Yo, Dames,” Robert called. “Unless you think what you’re lookin’ for is in there, you better come out.”

Damien wanted to stay crouched in the shrubbery for a bit longer; if only to hide his shame. But time was of the essence. They had to find Duchess before dark…and as Robert knew he was there, anyway, there was no point. He stood up, dusting himself off, and keeping his gaze turned purposefully from Robert.

“Forgive my moment of…confusion,” he said.

“Whatever, honey,” Mary said. “Just as long as you’re still sane enough to help me keep looking for Duchess.”

“Need some help?” Robert asked. Both Damien and Mary looked at him. Damien was quite surprised at the offer to help, and rather…flattered. Mary seemed merely confused, and raised one of her eyebrows at the other man.

“I don't remember you being so generous.”

“I’m generous all the time, Lady,” Robert said. “Besides, I’ve got a blood hound,” he added, gesturing at Betsy with his thumb.

“She is a Boston Terrier, Robert,” Damien corrected.

“I know that,” Robert snipped, “I mean that she’s good at huntin’ things, and you know that better than anyone.”

“This is not an excursion to find a mythical creature,” Damien told him, “We are looking for a dog; a Mastiff pup, and we are losing precious time before the sun sets.”

“Why’s sunset important?” Robert asked.

“Duchess Cordelia turns into a werewolf when the moon comes out,” Mary told him as both shelter volunteers passed Robert.

Robert was not phased by the joke. "Yeah, sure, and Big Foot comes over for shots."

"We don't want her to be left out to get cold, moron," Mary said.

“I thought it was good form to accept a gentleman’s help,” Robert called back. It stung Damien deep in his heart.

“Since when were you a gentleman?” Mary asked, pausing, turning, and placing her hand on her hip.

“Since always,” Robert told her, approaching them. “I’m the pinnacle of good manners.” He walked right up to Damien, and grabbed his hand, his grip tight around Damien’s more slender wrist.

“We’re splittin’ up to cover more ground. You cover the bay, and Me, Dames, and Betsy will get the coffee shop.”

“Fine, if you’re gonna bully us,” Mary said, raising her hand from her hip and walking on.

“W-Wait!” Damien objected. He did not want to be alone with Robert; he already knew that things were about to change, and likely badly, between them… could he not have a few hours to delay what was likely going to be the end of the best relationship he had been in for a while? “You have Betsy—It would be more sensible if I went with Mary.”

 “You’re fine,” Mary called back, already quite ahead of them. “We’ll meet back here after we cover the area!”

Damien silently questioned his choice in a best friend as he watched her abandon him. Neither he nor Robert moved until she got into her car and drove off. Then, the older man started to tug and lead him back to the front of his house.

“Let’s go,” Robert said, “We can walk, it’ll be faster than my truck, for once.”

“I- I- Robert, let go, please?”

“No can do,” Robert said. “We got a dog to catch.”

“Does that excuse pulling me as if I am on a leashe?”

“If I let go, you gonna run?” Robert asked, voice sharp as the blade of a knife, turning his head to look at Damien. He shook his head in response.

Robert let go of him. “You got anythin’ with the dog’s scent?”

Damien reached into his back pocket, and pulled out a pink ribbon. “This ribbon. We think it came loose when she escaped.” He handed the strip of satin to Robert, and he knelt to let Betsy smell it.

“Got the scent, girl?” he asked her. She snuffled her nose over the ribbon and soon was barking, loudly, and running off. She was, quite thankfully, going in the direction of the street that led to the shops, exactly where they intended to go. Robert seemed pleased at Betsy’s skill as a tracker, and let the leashed dog lead. Damien followed, head down still.

“So,” Robert asked, “This why you canceled?”

Damien hesitated, but he did answer, “Yes. I wasn’t sure how long it would take to look, and… after nightfall, we intend to take time and ensure the other kennels are secure.”

Robert didn’t question his explanation. He did ask, however, “So what’s with the outfit?”

“Must I tell you, **_now_**?”

“Yeah.”

Damien winced, as if slapped. “This is…my work outfit. I usually wear it for my volunteer work, as well.”

“So, by night you’re a Dark Lord,” Robert said, “And by day…?”

“I’m…an I.T.” Damien was mortified to admit it. “Don’t mistake me; I am good at my job, and I do enjoy it to a degree. But I… I hate that it clashes so with my lifestyle! In my heart and soul, I love being a Victorian gentleman, and a dweller in the dark and morose Gothic world… but then I’m also this,” he spat, gesturing at his current attire.

Robert turned around, holding the leash tight against Betsy, who was tugging at the leather lead. “A nerd?”

Damien sighed. “Yes! A nerd! A massive nerd who likes black velvet cloaks, as well as storage solutions.”

“S’pose that explains all the shelves under your stairs.”

“Space otherwise wasted, utilized!” Damien elaborated. “But that’s…That’s not what matters, now.” He felt thrashed. Defeated, deflated. He wanted to go back to their neighbor’s house and crawl back in his bushes, or hide in his own wardrobe, in the dark, where no one could see him.

“You’re right,” Robert said, and again let Betsy lead him. “We’ve gotta find a werewolf before it terrorizes the town.”

Damien glanced up, at last, to stare at the back of Robert’s head. At least his humor had returned. No real fall out... Yet. But Damien knew it was coming. It was only a matter of time. Until then, at least he could have a bit of time with Robert before the end.

**Author's Note:**

> Yep. It's the dog date! Sorry to leave you all half-through, but otherwise, this fic would be even longer than the last installment. I do hope, though, that I left some things to look forward to. 
> 
> Once again, kudos are lovely, comments and critiques are welcome! See you all again, soon.


End file.
